#With the obvious stipulations

[oifaaa]

I'm not gonna lie I've been pondering for the last 30 minutes or so on what a good animated Robin movie would look like and Im kinda coming up blank I'm even getting stumped on which Robin the movie would focus on and outside of that what story should be the main focus

[princessstevemunson]

Steve and Eddie kiss for the first time when the fruity four go to a gay bar in Indianapolis to celebrate Steve and Robin’s wedding in the spring of ‘86.

[masonhawth0rne]

sometimes i just don't know what a call for subs is actually asking for, like can i get a conk crete example of this very nebulous stipulation that you've made

[vivvy-an]

time for some REAL rent-lowering gunshot type posts

[dreamescapeswriting]

Contracted Love ~ MYG

WORD COUNT: 7.1K

GENRE: CEO AU, marriage contracts, blackmailing, fake dating, fake marriage, falling love and realising you’re scared, (might actually be my fav piece)

PAIRING: Yoongi X Fem!Reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - March 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

As Yoongi began to walk through the bustling heart of the city he couldn't stop his mind from wandering back from the meeting he had just left and he didn't know whether to laugh or cry at what had happened.

It had been his grandfather's will reading, something that heartbreaking in and of itself but what was getting to Yoongi more was the stipulation that came along with his portion of the will. 

"It is not my wish for you to end up like me, old, alone and afraid of love."

Was that the piece of paper read, his grandfather was giving him strict orders to follow if he had any chance of getting his grandfather's portion of the company he owned and he needed it.

There was no way it could go to his father's side of the family, the vultures as his grandfather called them. They only hung around him long enough to know that they were going to be put into the will and didn't want to know his grandfather any other time. But it was all stupid. In order to collect his portion he had to be married and have a child all within a year.

A man who had hardly dated before was supposed to married and have a child within twelve months if he wanted any chance of keeping his company alive. Now Yoongi could have sworn he heard the ticking of a clock in the back of his mind as a constant reminder that he hadn't got much time.

"Please, I promise I can get it for you by the end of the week if you just give me some more time!" A voice pleaded, interrupting his thoughts and making him freeze on the sidewalk wondering what was unfolding in front of him.

"I've heard this a million times, Yn, I'm sick of hearing it." A male said, angrily staring down at you as you whimpered a little. He was your landlord Richard and he had just served you with an eviction notice for your business.

"Pages & Aromoa's will be a hit in no time and you'll have all the money I owe you." You sniffled but Richard handed you the piece of red paper and walked away, ignoring your begging and driving off.

"Fucking cunt," You hissed before heading inside of the door.

Yoongi stared up at the cafe sign it was basically falling apart but it was easily readable. The brick walls of the cafe had patches of Ivy clinging to the surface as if trying to breathe life into the ageing structure. The windows were slightly grim but offered a glimpse into the warmth inside that awaited anyone walking by. 

The cafe was nestled between two giant skyscrapers, one of which belonged to Yoongi but he'd never even noticed the cafe before. Sighing to himself he wondered if this was the cafe his grandfather had been boasting about before he had died and he found himself walking inside. The bell above the door sounded as he did so but you were nowhere to be seen.

"I'll be just a minute," Your voice called out. Despite the outside appearance of the building, Yoongi was pleasantly surprised when he walked inside. The interior was a sanctuary of tranquillity and refinement. Polished hardwood floors gleamed under the soft glow of vintage bulbs that were casting a warm ambience in the cafe. The perfect place to hide away and work or even read which was something that clearly happened here.

There were shelves lining the walls, stretched from floor to ceiling, the books all looked used and loved. Plush armchairs and cosy reading nooks were all over the place, offering a place for someone to lose themselves in the pages of a good book or work in silence. It was obvious why his grandfather had loved this place and had been talking about it for months.

"Stupid, machine." Yoongi heard you grumbling as you finally came up from behind a counter and smiled warmly in his direction. The smile that sent a warmth throughout his chest he suddenly felt guilty about having.

"What can I get you? And please, don't say coffee because the press is broken and the machine won't work," You pleaded with him, Yoongi's mouth opened to say something but he found himself unable to speak, struck by something he didn't understand. His chest was fluttering and his stomach was in knots, he didn't know what was happening. 

"Oh! Are you deaf? I know some sign language but I can write stuff down if it's easier." Before Yoongi had a chance to protest you were beginning to sign to him, something he didn't even understand himself but he was pretty sure you'd gotten it wrong.

"Can I get some tea?" He didn't know what was going on with his stomach but his grandfather always told him that tea solved most issues. Something warm to settle a raging stomach.

"Sure! I have a whole selction-" You were about to list off the extensive list you had when Yoongi shook his head,

"Early grey would be fine, with Milk."

"To go?" You arched a brow at him, most people that came in dressed the way he was got all of their orders to go. You knew the type he was, a businessman, too busy to learn the name of the place they were in but were loyal to it, it was nice.

"Erm," Yoongi glanced around and then down at his watch. He wasn't due back at work for another hour or so,

"I'll stay," He smiled at you and you nodded, pointing around the shop for him to sit anywhere he wanted. It wasn't like it was going to get busy anytime soon and your regular customer you'd had for a few months had suddenly stopped coming recently.

"Sure, make yourself comfortable." You gestured around the room and Yoongi stayed frozen in place,

"Don't you need my name for the order?" Yoongi countered you smirked a little at him.

"Because it'll get lost in the sea of customers?" You asked sarcastically, laughing nervously at the end,

"I guess that's true." He chuckles a little, and for the first time in a long time it feels like a genuine laugh from him, something he hadn't done for a long time

"He died?" Your voice was so sympathetic as soon as Yoongi told you about his grandfather, Rath, who had been your most loyal and regular customer. The two of you had been discussing your business for a while and you'd mentioned to Yoongi about having to close down soon if you weren't picking up in business.

"I wondered why he stopped coming by," You slowly sank down in the armchair opposite Yoongi and he smiled sadly down at the cup of tea in his hands. 

"Were you close to my grandfather?" You weren't close with the man but he'd been coming in every day it felt like you were friends.

"I wouldn't say close but we did talk a lot whenever he was here, he loved you." You smiled, Rath had spoken so much about Yoongi that you felt as though you knew him but he hadn't been at all what you were expecting. 

You'd expected some small, nerdy-looking guy but Yoongi was the opposite, he was built well, dressed in the finest of suits and looked as though he could be in the pages of magazines.

"I have a proposition for you." He suddenly said. Yoongi wasn't blind, he could see the business was going under and he knew you needed him as much as he needed you.

"Which is?" You laughed a little, looking up at the time and then back to Yoongi. The two of you had been sat talking for almost two hours now and still not a single other person had come in, which hadn't gone unnoticed by Yoongi, who was already concocting a plan in his mind.

"I need to get married." He said bluntly.

"And I need your help to do it." You held back the urge to laugh as you stared at him, you weren't sure what his grandfather had told him but you didn't know anyone in the market at the minute.

"Unfortunately I'm not sure I'm your girl, I can't help."

"But you can. You see, I have a lot of money and you need a lot of money." You knew that already, the Min family were richer than rich, one of the richest families in the world.

"What makes you think I NEED money?" You were trying to play it close to your chest, but it was true. You were desperate for money, your coffee machines were broken and you were behind on four months worth of rent.

"Yn, let's be real, your business is going under and I can help. I can keep you afloat or make you a huge success, whatever you want I can do that." As amazing as that sounded you still didn't know anyone that would be willing to just randomly get married to him,

"But I don't know anyone that wants to be married." You shook your head but Yoongi smirked at you,

"You can marry me," The words registered in your brain and you bit back the urge to laugh in his face.

"Are you insane?" You added a nervous laugh at the end and stood up, moving away from where he was sitting but he was quick to follow you.

"I have a lot of influence, I can easily make this place well known." He told you with a giant smile, your hands nervously tugged at the cleaning rag in your hand and you stared at him. 

"Just for marrying you?" 

"Just marrying me. All fake, no one would have to know we're not really together," Shit like this didn't happen in real life, only in books and really bad film adaptations, there had to be a catch. 

"What do you get out of this? Why do you need a wife so badly?" Was this something he did on a regular? Ask random women to marry him and then never follow through with all of his promises.

"If I get married, I can collect my grandfather's part of the company but I need a wife." He was going to ignore the child part until absolutely necessary, he was sure there was a way out of that.

"Why wouldn't he leave it to you?" You frowned, Rath had seemed so sure of Yoongi, you were positive he would have left his Grandson something. 

"He doesn't want me to end up alone," Yoongi admitted, your heart breaking a little as you remembered Rath mentioning he wished he'd never divorced Yoongi's grandmother,

"Oh."

"You'd get your business up and running, booming, I'd get half of the company away from my vultures of a family and everyone will be happy." You'd heard stories of the other side of Yoongi's family, stories from Rath and things you'd read about in the media.

"Okay...But there have to be some rules in place...A contract?"

"Agreed," Yoongi glanced down at his watch and bit his lip, he was already late for a meeting but that didn't matter.

"Come up to my office tonight, give your name to security and they'll bring you up. We'll work out a contract and hash out all of the details." He smiled warmly at you and you somehow believed him that all of this was going to work.

"My business will be fixed if I do this, right?"

"I promise." He breathed out before rushing out of the door, your heart racing at the thought of all of this becoming true. You glanced down at your outfit before cursing yourself, you were dressed in clothes with holes and your apron was torn to pieces.

"New outfit," You mumbled, heading to the door and locking it up. If you were going to go into business with Yoongi then you wanted to look the part. 

"Come in," Yoongi called as he heard a small tapping at his office door, the day had gone on for longer than he'd liked and he was looking forward to writing out the contract and heading home for the night. 

"Mr Min, Yn is here." His assistant announced before shutting the door, Yoongi slowly glanced up from his desk and his eyes almost popped out of his head.

He had been expecting you in the same scraps of clothes you had worn this morning but instead, you were dressed in a black pencil skirt and a red silk top that was unbuttoned to show just enough cleavage.

"Is this okay? It's the only thing I had left from my office days," You laughed nervously when you noticed him staring at you a little longer than he had done that morning.

"It's-It's erm, perfect." His voice stuttered and cracked as he stared at you. He had no idea that you could look this way and now he suddenly felt as though he was out of his depth. 

"Please sit," He gestured to the seat in front of his desk before grabbing two bottles of water and sitting back down. By now you'd gotten out a worn leather-bond book from your bag and smiled.

"Let's get straight to it," You said, your tone businesslike yet hidden with a little humour. Yoongi smiled to himself, preparing his own notepad.

"We need some rules in place, so nothing is blurred along the way." He stated simply.

"Your business will be my number one priority during all of this. We'll sit down with a bookkeeper and organise your bills as well as figure out anything that's owed." You suddenly felt your chest tighten, you were in a massive amount of debt. Yoongi had already gone into research mode when he got home and knew everything you needed to pay off.

"T-That might be a lot. Are you sure you're up for it?" You hated that you were in so much debt, when you'd ventured out alone to own your own place you'd been so sure it would be great you could pay it back in no time.

"No issue, I assure you, I didn't become the CEO Of Min Media but shying away from challenges." Your debt wouldn't even cause a dent in his savings but he wasn't going to tell you that and make you feel bad about it.

"That means a lot...Thank you," You smiled warmly, the smile sent his stomach into knots once again, he really wanted to see someone about that.

"We need to keep everything strictly professional." You finally stated, looking up from your notepad and back at Yoongi who was, once again, staring at you.

"Agreed." He jotted it down on the notepad.

"Secondly, we can't tell anyone it's not real. It's imperative to me we keep everything hidden. We keep up a genuine illusion to appease my family and the shareholders." He told you, if anyone found out this was all fake he'd most likely lose his shareholdings as well as be the laughingstock of the media world.

"Agreed." You wrote it down, and Yoongi eyed you up. You'd been quiet about your family finding out and it worried him a little. He didn't want you to go around telling anyone it was fake, it would only take one slip-up for the world to know.

"What about your family?"

"What about them?" You asked, staring up at him with a blank expression on your face, Yoongi frowned.

"You can't tell them the truth." He reminded you and you nodded, your lips in a line as you shrugged your shoulders a little.

"Not a problem, I haven't spoken to them in almost four years since I went out on my own to own a cafe."

"Understood. We must present as a united front," He stared at you. His heart felt heavy at the thought of your family ignoring you for following your dreams. 

"We will have to attend social events together, support each other publicly and appear as a happy married couple at all times." You nodded at him.

"I can handle that." It was no big deal, you'd get to dress fancy for a while and it would be fun,

"Living arrangements?" Yoongi wrote down and then stared at you,

"Well, I currently have a place in the lower part of Seoul, you're more than welcome to come and live with me," You teased only to be met with widened eyes.

"That was a joke Yoongi," You clarified with a small laugh,

"You can move in with me." He stated plainly, you frowned at him. As much as you hated your place you weren't sure moving in with him was the best idea.

"Is it necessary though?"

"Yn, once we're seen together you'll never get peace...People will want to know why a soon-to-be-married couple are living separately." You knew he was right, there would be too many questions and you didn't want to have to deal with them,

"Okay."

"I'll arrange a moving van for you tomorrow." He smiled, writing down on a sticky note to remind himself once the two of you were done.

"Can I suggest one more?"

"Sure." He looked up at you, expecting something about asking to be paid, or for more than you were getting out of it. All of which he was willing to do if it meant getting what he needed out of you.

"No falling in love. It's a business arrangement and any romantic feelings that may develop should be ignored." Yoongi was taken back but nodded his head at you. 

"Of course. We have a deal." He smiled shaking your hand across the table.

With a sense of determination, you added a final clause to your contract: Yoongi would take over the financial management of Pages & Aromas, ensuring its stability and prosperity while also shouldering the burden of its debts.

"We will be announcing our marriage this weekend, it'll be held here. In the meantime, I'll pay your rent for the cafe," He stated as you both signed along the pieces of paper, Yoongi took them both into his grasp and filed them in his drawer his eyes lingering over the clause about not falling in love.

"I'd like it if you didn't work for a few months if that's okay?" He suggested, staring at you as you frowned.

"We can fix up the shop a little, have it redone to your specifications and then announce it as a grand opening." 

"What am I supposed to do in the meantime?"

"You can do whatever you want, money is no issue."

"It is for me."

"We'll be married, what's mine...is yours," He stated before laying down a black card in front of you.

"Yoongi, it's already enough you're helping my business I can't take your money too." The statement was shocking, everyone Yoongi knew was always after his money, it was why he'd never dated in the past.

"Fine. But please keep it, you can use it as an emergency card, or if you need an outfit for an event...it's yours," He told you as you flipped the card over, already finding your name inscribed on it, had he been so sure about all of it since this morning?

"Okay. Fine."

"I'll have Alan drive you home and I'll see you tomorrow at my place." He smiled warmly at you as you got up from the chair, feeling a little overwhelmed with everything but nodding your head.

With a sense of nervousness mingled with excitement, you stepped into Yoongi's luxurious penthouse apartment. Your final box had been taken up by a group of men and you were unsure of what you were supposed to do now. You walked through the door, slipping off your shoes before your eyes widened at the opulence that surrounded you. The spacious living area was adorned with sleek modern furniture and tasteful artwork while floor-to-ceiling windows offered sweeping views of the city skyline below. You could practically see all of Seoul from up here, how did he get anything done? You knew you'd find yourself people-watching more than you should.

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you set about unpacking your belongings, your mind racing with thoughts of the new chapter that lay ahead. As you sorted through boxes and arranged your stuff in their designated places, you couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place in such a lavish environment.

"Mr Min will be late this evening, he said to make yourself at home," Alan, who had driven you home the night previous, said with a warm smile on his face. But how were you supposed to do that? You didn't know what you were and weren't allowed to do or even where to go. Did he have rooms off-limits to you? More questions flooded your mind but as the afternoon waned into evening, you found solace in the familiar routine of preparing dinner, the rhythmic chopping of vegetables and the sizzle of food cooking on the stove grounding you in the present moment.

You'd always loved cooking, you were hungry and determined to make a good impression on Yoongi. Even going as far as to make your famous cake no one could say no to it.

By the time Yoongi arrived home, the apartment was filled with the tantalizing scent of home-cooked food and freshly baked treats. Stepping through the door, he was greeted by the sight of you bustling about the kitchen, a warm smile gracing your lips.

"Welcome home," You said, your voice infused with genuine warmth, something Yoongi hadn't had the pleasure of hearing in years. His eyes lit up with surprise and appreciation as he took in the scene before him. 

"You've been busy," he remarked, a note of amusement in his voice as he watched you carefully. You shrugged modestly, a warm feeling spreading onto your cheeks. 

"I wanted to do something nice for you. Dinner will be ready soon, and I made cake." Yoongi's smile widened as he crossed the room to envelop you in a grateful hug.

"Thank you, Yn. You didn't have to do all this." You were in shock at the hug at first, your heart thumping as you tried not to overthink it. He was just grateful for the food. You smiled a little, returning the embrace, a sense of contentment settling over you. 

"I know. But I wanted to." You admit before going to set everything down on the table ready to eat. 

It had been almost a week since the news had broke that you and Yoongi were going to be married and he'd been right. People followed you EVERYWHERE. You'd gone grocery shopping two nights after the news was released and you'd been followed by men with cameras, all of them screaming questions at you. Luckily you and Yoongi had already come up with a story for you both, something easy to remember. You'd met because of his grandfather and it had almost been love at first sight. 

Tonight though you were at a restaurant together, your hands linked on the table as you stared lovingly at one another. All of it feels a little too real for you. 

"Tell me something about you that I wouldn't find in a magazine or news article." You begged Yoongi. Since moving in with him you'd done extensive research on him, wanting to be prepared in case any of his crazy family members tried to doubt the two of you. 

Yoongi stared at you, hesitating for a moment as he thought about it. He was torn between the desire to open up to you and betraying your agreement but the look in your eyes made it hard to resist. 

"Well, I've always loved astronomy," He confessed, his eye staring down at the glass feeling suddenly vulnerable.

"There's something about the vastness of the universe that puts everything into perspective." Your eyes lit up with interest, finally, something about him that wasn't run-of-the-mill CEO shit.

"That's beautiful," You whispered, 

"I've always been drawn to the stars as well." You admit, the two of you getting lost in conversation and completely forgetting about the many people snapping photos of you together. Yoongi let himself open up to you more, finding himself falling in a freefall for you. His head reminded him of the agreement you'd made together, no falling in love and he couldn't risk jeopardizing everything. 

"Why haven't you spoken to your family?" He suddenly found himself asking over dessert, your fork freezing midway to your mouth as your throat suddenly ran dry.

"They decided they didn't want me to ruin their family name,"

"But you were following your dreams, shouldn't that be something they were proud of you for doing?" He didn't understand how someone couldn't support the person they loved in everything that they did. 

"The Score family don't follow dreams, they crush them," Your voice was flat and dry as you placed your fork down.

"Score? As in-"

"Lawyers, the best in the business." You hissed out, you hated that all of this was being bought up but you owed it to Yoongi to tell him the truth.

"I don't speak to them, biologically I'm their daughter but legally I'm not."

"You were emancipated?" He watched you closely and you nodded your head,

"As soon as I left the company I did it myself," You admit with a smile on your face, you were proud of what you'd done. Being a lawyer had never been your dream and if the people that had raised you had it their way you'd still be another cog in the inner workings of their awful company.

"Believe me Yoongi, they have nothing to do with me-" His hand was on top of yours, rubbing over your skin in a soothing motion.

"It wouldn't bother me if they were still in your life." He promises, a weight being lifted from your chest as you let out a happy sigh.

The two of you continued to talk all night long, discovering things each other you hadn't known before and it was starting to feel like a true friendship was forming.

Months began to fly by as you and Yoongi worked on your fake relationship and countless parties you attended together, business and personal, but tonight was the one you were most nervous about. You were pacing around in the living room of the apartment waiting for Yoongi to come down and meet you. Your hands nervously played with the purse you were holding, the prospect of meeting his family tonight looming over your head like a dark cloud. 

The door to the living room opened and Yoongi stepped inside, freezing when he saw you pacing around but he couldn't take his eyes off you. You were in a stunning floor-length gown, crimson colour to match his tie but it clung to your body perfectly, seeing you turned his blood to fire. You paced away from him giving him the perfect view of the back of the gown, which had a crisscrossing strap at the back, the fabric shimmering and glowing with every step you took.

"I don't know if I can do this." You admit to Yoongi once you notice him there. You'd been faking it with everyone and everyone believed you so far but were his family going to be so easy to convince?

"Your family...they're going to see right through me." Your voice trembled with uncertainty and Yoongi smiled weakly walking over to you. He was nervous himself but he wasn't going to admit it to you.

"Yn, you're stronger than you think." He told you, his hand gently reaching out and rubbing your arm.

"We'll get through tonight, together." He had no doubt the two of you could convince his family you were together, to be honest, he had a hard time convincing himself it wasn't real. 

"What if they ask about our relationship and I cock the story up? What if they see through me?" He smiled down at you, running his hand over your cheek.

"We'll handle it, Yn. I won't let anything happen to you," And he meant it, if anything were to ever happen to you he knew he'd never survive it. 

After months of spending every second by your side, he felt himself falling harder and harder in love with you until the point where everything was blurred except for you. All he cared about was a future with you. His words were like a lifeline pulling you back from the edge of panic, you took in a deep breath and forced yourself to focus on everything again. 

"And if they don't believe us? What happens to me?" You asked, your voice tinged with apprehension.

"I'll make sure your business is taken care of, I'll not let anything happen to you but for now, let's focus on getting through tonight together." He whispers, kissing your hand softly as you feel a spark running through your veins. No matter what challenges lay ahead, you knew that as long as you faced them together, you could conquer anything that stood in your way. And with that realization, the weight of the world seemed to lift from your shoulders, replaced by a glimmer of hope.

As the two of you made your way through the entrance, all eyes turned to greet you, your presence as a couple commanding attention amidst the sea of glamorous attendees. 

"They're staring." You uttered to Yoongi as he smirked, his arm wrapped around your waist as the two of you walked together, your steps synchronized in harmony. Heads turned, smiles were exchanged and greetings were offered as you passed by people. 

"How could they not? You look like you stepped out of a magazine, you look beautiful." It wasn't the first compliment that Yoongi had ever paid you, in fact, you'd grown used to the compliments he'd give to you all the time. Including the small hugs and kisses the two of you would share even if you were in public, it was clear lines were starting to blur but you weren't entirely sure you minded anymore.

"Look, it's Min Yoongi and his fiancée," Someone whispered, their voice tinged with awe. 

"They're a stunning couple." Her date said back to her, their eyes trailing over you both as you moved through the crowd. 

"Let's give them something to talk about," Yoongi whispered but before you had a chance to ask what he was talking about he was taking you over to the dance floor. 

His hand rested gently on your waist, guiding you with a tender pull as you began to move around the dance floor together, the rest of the world fading into the background. 

Your movements were slow and deliberate, each steps a silent conversation between you as you swayed to the rhythm of the music. Your heart raced with every beat, your breath catching in your throat as you allowed yourself to be swept up by the magic of the moment.

"You look beautiful," Yoongi whispered, your eyes locking as you stared at one another.

"You said that already," You mumbled nervously as he smirked to himself, moving in time with you as you fell back into a comfortable silence. Not a single word needed to be uttered as you knew what was happening to you, you were falling in love with him too fast and everything was falling apart around you. You continued to dance together, neither of you daring to speak the words that lingered in the back of your head. Knowing that acknowledging your love would shatter the delicate illusion you'd worked so hard to maintain.

"So this is the lovely Yn." You turned your head to face Juliain, Yoongi's father and Yoongi wrapped his arm tighter around your waist.

"Lovely dance the two of you did, your mother made me dance shortly after." He chuckles softly but Yoongi remains deadpan and unreadable, his grip on you tightening. You'd heard about Julilan from both Rath and Yoongi and you knew the man was bad news, a slimeball only after money.

"Julilan. Lovely to see you, shame you didn't make it to grandfather's funeral, it was a lovely service." Yoongi said coldly, your eyes staring up at him. Julian had refused to go to the funeral but had gone to the reading of the will, only to see what he was entitled to. 

"I have no doubt, you always knew how to throw a party." Julian laughed but your heart shattered, Rath had been an amazing man and to insinuate that a party was held for his dying instead of a grand funeral boiled your blood.

"Party? A man died-"

"Hush. You don't speak unless spoken to." Julian said in a dismissive tone, your mouth dropping open as you couldn't believe the man in front of you. 

"With all due respect, sir, I am not a decoration on Yoongi's arm I am his Fiancée," You spoke clearly but Julian turned to look at his son who was now red in the face,

"I see she has no manners or concept of brains. Where did you pick her up? A brothel?" Your stomach dropped as you looked down at yourself, was he implying you looked like a whore? The woman who had dressed you tonight told you that you'd looked elegant.

"Don't." Yoongi seethed through gritted teeth,

"Women should be seen and not heard. Act like the trophy wife you are meant to be." Julian was in your face but within seconds he was shoved away by Yoongi, a smirk playing on his father's lips as he realised he was getting under his skin.

"Don't speak to my wife like that." He ordered but you pulled at his arm, you could already see people starting to stare and Yoongi didn't need the bad press.

"You're not married yet. Are you really going to cause a scene over a woman? Behave." He hissed at him, you stared at him as you waited for him to insult him one last time.

"Still just a child." He muttered, about to walk away when you finally found your voice once more.

"A child who has done more than you'll ever accomplish in your life." You hissed out at him, earning a smirk from Yoongi, he had to admit he was proud of you for not backing down from him.

"Why you little-" A hand was raised in the air but Yoongi caught it, shoving his father away from you.

"I see why you hate the man." You mumbled as Yoongi checked on you, his eyes softening once he saw you were okay.

"If he'd hurt you just then." It didn't bear to think about, he was angry, blood-curdling as he thought about the way his father had gone to strike you. 

"He didn't." You whispered to him, your hand rubbing his back softly but it did nothing to calm him down right now.

"I'd kill him."

"Yoongi." You pleaded with him, but he was lost in his own anger.

"He's a disgusting piece of shit and I would have killed him." You stepped in front of him, your eyes finding his as he stared down at you in shock,

"But then I'd have no one to watch the stars with," You whispered only for his whole body to relax and he nodded slowly at you.

"Let's get some food and go out on the balcony, we can go and look at the stars and pretend Julian isn't even here," You offered to him.

Yoongi ventured off to fetch some food and you found yourself alone in the gala, looking around at everyone who was dancing together or mingling. This world was something you'd never thought you'd fit into before but after spending so much time in it, it almost felt like home.

"Ah, Yn dear, there you are." You slowly turned around to see Mia, Rath's ex-wife making her way to you with a giant smile on her face.

"I've been meaning to have a word with you," She said as she reached you, her voice gentle and a welcoming contrast compared to her son.

"Of course, Mrs Min. Is everything alright?" You eyed her up as she smiled, her eyes twinkling with mischief. 

"No one's called me that in years, call me Mia." She begged, you nodded at her and slowly made your way out onto the balcony to talk better together.

"I wanted to first tell you how happy I am that Yoongi has found someone like you." Your eyes widened in surprise, your heart fluttering at the unexpected praise.

"T-Thank you, Mia. That means a lot to me." Mia reached out to pat your hand affectionately.

"You know, I've seen the way he looks at you. It reminds me of the way Rath used to look at me." Your breath caught in your throat at the implication of her words.

"I...I'm not sure what you mean." She chuckled softly at you,

"Oh, my dear, don't be so modest. It's written all over his face- He loves you, and I couldn't be happier for the both of you, even if you were faking it at first." You smiled weakly, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to process everything you'd just heard. Yoongi loved you - truly, deeply and unequivocally and that sent a surge of panic through you.

"Rath would have adored seeing you both together," Mia added before giving you an envelope.

"In my side of the will I was to give this to the beautiful girl from the cafe, now I assume that's you." You stared down at the envelope and nodded, quickly placing it into your bag to look at another time, when you weren't so stressed. 

"I-I have to go," You rushed out, panic taking over you as you began to hurry through the crowded hall. Your mind was a whirlwind of confusion and fear, you loved him too but there was no way you could do this. You raced around a corner when you collided with Yoongi, sending you both sprawling to the floor.

"Yn, what's wrong?" Concern was etched in his features as he reached out to steady you. Your breathing turned tagged as you struggled to compose yourself, slowly standing up.

"I...I need to talk to you," Your voice barely came out above a whisper but Yoongi nodded, leading you to a nearby alcove away from prying eyes.

"What is it, Yn? You're shaking." He reached out to touch you and you took in a deep breath, words tumbling out in a rush as you fought to make sense of everything.

"I just spoke to your grandmother, and she...she said that you love me, Yoongi. And...I...I don't know what to do." Yoongi's expression softened as he reached out to cup your trembling hands in his, his touch sending a shiver of warmth coursing through you.

"Yn, listen to me. I know this is overwhelming but you need to understand something...you belong here with me," You stared up at him as he didn't deny falling for you, tears welling up in your eyes as you shook your head.

"I ran away from this world."

"And now you're back but I promise it'll be nothing like your family's world." He breathed out as you stared at him, his eyes boring into you,

"You belong here, with me."

` "What if you suddenly decide I'm not good enough for you? What if I can't give you everything you deserve?" Yoongi brushed a gentle thumb across your cheek, wiping away a tear.

"You're everything I need, Yn. Your love, your strength, your unwavering support - it's more than I could ever hope for. And as long as we have each other, we can face whatever comes our way." Tears began to melt away as you stared at him.

"I love you, Yoongi." You whispered, the words feeling like a weight was taken right off our chest.

"I love you, Yn, Always." He whispered. 

With a soft sigh, he closed the distance between you and you leaned in slowly to him. It felt like an eternity until your lips met in a tender kiss, time seemed to stand still as you savoured the sweetness of the moment, your hearts beating in harmony as you finally surrendered to the pull of love. It was a kiss so full of tenderness and longing, of hope and promise. 

When you pulled away your foreheads touched and you giggled a little.

"Let's go home, I wanna show you how much I really love you," He winks, as you squeal a little taking his hand and practically dragging him out of the party.

Months Later 

"CEO'S Expecting: Min Yoongi and Min Yn Announce Pregnancy, Anticipate The New Heir To The Legacy?" You read out the title of the "Webber Files" newspaper and stared over at Yoongi with a blank expression.

"I see why their paper sucks," You grumbled, folding it up and staring at your husband who hadn't been able to take his eyes off you.

"Don't look at me like that, the last time you looked at me like that, this happened!" You stated, pointing down at your baby bump and whining at him.

"But we had fun," He wiggled his eyebrows at you and sat down beside you on the sofa, the two of you curling up together on a lazy Saturday morning.

"We did," You giggled as he ran his hand over your bump, smiling happily to himself. Not long after you found out you were expecting Yoongi told you the other stipulation about getting his grandfather's portion of the company and that was a child but you couldn't have been happier it was happening.

"Julian will flip a lid." You laughed at the thought of his father finding out about his son having a child but more importantly, you couldn't wait for him to figure out he was getting nothing in the will besides a small shop in the middle of nowhere.

"Oh, I meant to say. Gran asked if you'd looked into the envelope yet. Whatever that means," He frowns and you reach out for your bag, opening it up to find the envelope still sitting there.

As you took it out and opened it you couldn't believe what you were reading.

"By now I assume Yoongi and yourself are together and knowing My Mia she would have given this to you at the appropriate time, but enclosed are the deeds to your cafe. All yours, all paid for, as well as the number to my lawyer who will arrange for you to inherit some money as an investment to you and your dream.

Best Wishes,

Rath,"

You and Yoongi stared at one another, laughing a little as you realised Rath had been planning your get-together for a very long time.

@chiisaiblog@sw33tnight@kaitieskidmore97@laylasbunbunny@tinyoonsblog@whitefoxgirl@katnisspeetaprim@acciocriativity@choisoorin@heyjiminnie@btsiguess-kpop@halesandy@gothic4under4lord@soulphoenix1618@aerastus@jin-from-the-block@lenfilms@elizaschuyler18@piratequeen-impact @Namgiswifey@delulu18@xyahrinx@katsukis1wife@anthropologymajorkpopmultistan@blairscott@4-chan-inpadella@swga-ficrecs@niktwazny303@armystay89@myyouthdonut@xakx@kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy@kpopmenace143@loveforred@b1nn1e-1s-cut3@elissasimp

[occamstfs]

Roommates’ Trivial Tiff

Pretty standard nerdy asshole to himbo TF, who doesn't love some cosmic justice ! -Occam

“You just don’t understand what it’s like dude. You have no idea how hard all this stuff is for me.” Brock was struggling to get through to his roommate, someone he has time and time again been more than cordial with. In response Harvey scoffs and rolls his eyes refusing to engage and instead doubling down, “I’m sure it’s real difficult with all your paid tutors and your-” 

“You’re not even listening bro! You like to think you’re so elevated, like you have all the answers but you don’t even try to understand what anyone else is going through.” Harvey grimaces and briefly tosses about whether or not this is true but stubbornly neglects to internalize the criticism, “Uhh, I do too?” Brock bites his tongue to prevent just blowing up at his roommate and instead he tries a different angle, “Oh yeah? If that’s the case then, bet you know a lot about me huh? Since we’ve been roommates for a year now,” pausing as he narrows his eyes briefly at Harvey, “and ostensibly we’re friends right?”

Harvey struggles not to display his ever present irritation as he retorts, “Of course we are, uh, dude.” Brock does a better job hiding his intentions as he issues a challenge, “so if we were to say, quiz each other you think you’d come up on top lil dude?” With this gauntlet laid there is little recourse in Harvey’s mind but to accept it, there are few times he enjoys showing off so much as in a trivia contest. So what he might have a less than pristine record of respecting oafs like his roommate, he is certainly not to lose in any battle of the wits regardless of topic or stipulations there may be.

Brock puts out his hand and states the stakes, “You can of course bow out whenever, but uh, how about every question the winner takes something from the loser?” Harvey was resolved to win before hearing the terms and is now spitefully even more eager now as he eyes Brock’s side of the room looking for whatever his prize is sure to be.

Without any further clarification Brock promptly launches into the game, “I guess we’ll start real easy yeah? Only fair.” Harvey feels resentment start to brew as he feels he’s being talked down to as Brock goes on, “For starters then, What’s my major?” Harvey audibly gulps and feels his face blanche as he scrambles to find such an incredibly simple answer. This is such an obvious and pressing piece of information it would be impossible not to have it on deck.

Seeing the hesitation Brock laughs incredulously, “God dude are you kidding? How could you not know this, I-” He shifts his jaw waiting for the second shoe to drop as it is suddenly clear he is about to clean house, this asshole is going to learn respect by hook or by crook. Harvey’s eyes that were just hungrily looking through Brock’s possessions now retread their path, searching for the answer, his eyes linger on some sports bandages and protein powder and he kicks himself for forgetting. “Well duh dude, you’re doing a sports medicine or a trainer degree or whatever. Sorry that I forgot what the proper name is, it’s not exactly high in the list of things I need to know.”

Brock stares down at the clueless nerd before him and slowly shakes his head. “Not even close Harv. It’s-” Before he can finish though Harvey stands and shouts, “Don’t fucking call me that! I bet you don’t know mine either!” This leaves Brock aghast, he crosses his arms and narrows his eyes, “Of course I fucking do! You never shut up about it! I’m lucky if my headphones can block out you whining about homework while also constantly talking yourself up! It’s so, fucking, annoying!”

Hurt by this despite his typical apathy to others Harvey starts up once more, “Okay but you didn’t say-” “Computer Engineering.” Harvey blushes in shame, not over his disrespect but of getting the question wrong. Suddenly there’s a hum in the room and the shadows in the corner grow darker and Brock looks around, “Well I suppose that question really tees me up on what to take huh? I’ll take your major.”

“Wha?” caught on the other foot Harvey blinks and sees that his textbooks and assignments are suddenly piled on Brock’s desk. He feels anxiety rise in his chest unsure of what has happened though confident this must be a prank or something. “No no no that can’t be right? What is happening?” He then returns to look at his roommate once more, a scowl plastered on his face as Brock who, despite his impressive stature always aims to present as kind and gentle, cannot help but smirk as he feels he has gotten one over on this jerk.

He stretches, exposing his midriff and flexing  his arms behind his head, perhaps to try and allure or intimidate Harvey, he’s not sure, but Harvey is not going to just take this sitting down.Though at the present, he is too uncomfortable to even vocalize his discomfort as he stands there trying not to shake. Instead Brock begins once more, “Urgh kinda see what all that complaining was about now Harv, kinda got a lot on my plate now hah!”

Harvey stares daggers at his roommate, “Brock I don’t know what kind of nonsense is going through your dumbass ox brain. But it’s not funny, I’m sure you’re used to bullying little g-”

“Excuse me? I’m a bully!? I know you’re not saying that, I go out of my way to be kind, even to little chip on their shoulder assholes like you. I just,” Brock takes a deep breath and flexes his jaw before he continues. “It doesn’t matter actually. I trust you have a vested interest in trying again though right? Surely you want your major back?”

At the moment Harvey is caught between the idea that this is some kind of Christmas Carol-ass dream where he’s supposed to learn a lesson or once more that this is just a prank by Brock. Amenable as he’s always been, Harvey's convinced that behind this lunkhead is the vitriol of the typical jerk jock. In this impossible chance that this is reality though, he can’t just give up his major. He needs it to be an, uh? God what was, no what is his major anyway? 

Harvey looks around in shock as he suddenly can’t bring his current course schedule to his mind, but he was literally in class this morning right? He feels his coursework draining from his mind as fear and rage begin to rise in his frail body. Images of lecture halls and professors flash through his mind before they just as swiftly dissipate, somewhere within him deeper than memory he feels that he was studying something with numbers. Mathematics, physics, engineering, something he was good at. He is determined to get that back as he speaks up finally, “What is the next question.”

Brock smiles and toys around in his head, confident that he will end up on top. “How about you pick this one, give you a fighting chance.” Harvey purses his lips and struggles to produce a question that he knows the answer to that his roommate will not. Oh duh, he’ll just ask him a math question, easy! Certainly not the aim of the game but Harvey just needed to get his life back. “What’s a derivative.” 

“Kinda not in the spirit of the game dude but whatever. I took calc you know. It’s the rate of change in response to a variable. Now since you’re still being an ass how about I lob one back? How about you derivative 𝑓(𝑥)= 2cos⁡(𝑥)−6sec⁡(𝑥)+3?” Harvey is flat stunned, this is some entry level shit but he cannot for the life of him bring the information to mind. He’s just as sharp as he always has been but anything beyond rudimentary trig is continuing to trickle out of his mind. He meekly chuckles out, “uh easy, it’s f(x) equals, uh tan-”

There’s a blaring in his head as both men are aware of his immediate slip up. Energy once more rises in the air as Brock looks down almost pitifully at his roommate this time. “Now I am sorry for this Harvey but, oof that course load! Like you so relish to say, I am just not that bright hm?” Harvey shakes his head as he realizes the horror about to occur. Brock looks a little uncomfortable as he continues, “After failing to pull your little gotcha, I think I’ll just go ahead and have your intelligence.” 

Both men are instantly struck with headaches the likes of which neither could endure under normal circumstances. As soon as the pain arrives though it is converted into a deep profane pleasure. Pins and needles fill Brock’s mind as it becomes heavy. Ideas and understanding fill his mind as a euphoric warmth flows through him. Harvey had enjoyed learning without truly lifting a finger, he had flourished and gained knowledge through no effort on his part but simple absorption. Brock is overcome with the ease at which he will now flow through life. Equally is he overcome by the ecstasy within his body as it only continues to heighten.

Opposite him Harvey clutches at his head as now not only do his learned experiences at university vanish, but all of his capabilities as a student and academic. Even the pleading within his mind slows down as he feels his ability to swiftly process information breaks down. Harvey turns from the man across from him as Brock’s hands feel up and down his musculature in rapturous delight, just in time to see whatever books and tomes he had collected as trophies begin to fade into the aether along with his memories of reading them. He looks down at his hands in confusion and horror, even with his unaddled mind at full steam he could not make sense of what has befallen him. He knows this is not right.

He is unable to find any answers, though as he searches his brain he begins to find a pleasant warmth in the vacuum where there once was knowledge. While his mind has been emptied, the bulge in his crotch demands his attention, which shall likely be a constant issue now that his mind shall evermore be less than preoccupied. He feels his mouth start to fill with drool as he looks down at his cock as it almost feels larger than it should be. He almost laughs at the idea that from now on he may fully be thinking with his cock. He opens his mouth allowing drool to spill out which shocks him back to sense and he turns around to demand that Brock return this all to sense immediately.

Brock for his part is reclined in a chair just rubbing his cock over his shorts almost forgetting about what they had been doing not seconds earlier. He laughs as he sees the expression on Harvey’s face, “Woah dude sorry about that, got lost in my own mind for a second there! No wonder you had, or have rather, such an attitude problem. It all just came so easy to you didn’t it? I mean we could keep going if you want, what else do you have to lose yeah?” Harvey wipes the drool from his face and takes stock, he can still read, he is pretty confident he still passed high school, he remembers his life before whatever hell is currently happening as well as whatever this new reality is. He nods his head and pushes his erection down as it continues to rise upon seeing his roommate’s cocky repose. He answers, “let’s keep going. Your question right?”

Harvey can’t help but trace Brock’s traps as he shrugs, “If you insist lil bro. What’s my middle name?” He knows this one for sure, he would bring it out to tease his roommate as needed. Brock slams his arm down in excitement and shouts, “fucking Laurel!” then he recalls this is only half the battle, Brock must also get his wrong, “what’s mine?” Brock smirks once more and laughs as he stretches to scratch his back, his roommate hungrily staring, “you don’t have one dude”

The energy rushing between the two men is drastically different this time. Unlike the pleasurable prickles of knowledge or the soothing burn of loss there is a direct, deeper connection between the two. Brock’s grin grows wider as understands, “Oh I getcha, question’s a tie so we share the spoils Harv. Only fair that since you’ve the mind of a what, meathead? May as well have the body of one.”

Harvey watches as his roommate takes off his shirt, he feels a warmth in his chest as he stares directly at Brock’s pecs. His breath catches as he watches his roommate flex them and he feels a nervous energy begin to surge within his own. He’s never had pecs before but he feels his chest pushing, growing, into his shirt. He sees his nipples harden and grow too large to ever hide as his chest expands. His swallows to stop from drooling once more as he sees Brock pose and flex his massive biceps, forcing a burning delight down the whole of Harvey’s arms. He matches the pose of the powerful man he has spoken nothing but ill of and flexes, sweat immediately staining through his shirt as the energy and strain heats his body beyond reason.

At the same time both men drop into a crunch, there is a loud tear as the pants of both men tear as they reach the lowest point in the crunch as Harvey’s ass bursts larger and his thighs swell with strength well enough to carry his increasingly top heavy torso. Not only is Harvey to gain the muscle of a tight jock, but the masculinity expected. The cock he has been til now proud enough of pulses with his heartbeat, with each pump it gorges larger, veins thick as the ones surging down his biceps force his cock thicker and further down his strained shorts. He tears at his pants to free his bulge as his balls bloat to the size of eggs, they pull tight ass they’re exposed to the air and all the soreness, strain, and pain of his still growing body becomes agonizing delight.

Harvey’s eyes water as he struggles to even stay cogent with the pleasure and power coursing through him. He smells his new musk breaking through his senses. Through the burning bedlam across his body he feels a soothing burn as hair begins to sprout and thicken where every man should make clear his masculinity. His pubes thicken and curl beyond his waistline and his pits grow wild and begin to spread to make it clear they, nor his musk, can ever be contained.

He lies, sits, writhes, flexes, exists in nothing but pleasure for some time, no longer concerned for his lost intelligence, beyond the care of his education. His hands, larger and painted with still thickening hair, press tight against his body as he feels the new contours of his body. Each new valley and mountain is a testament to the ecstasy he shall now prioritize above all. Until his roommate’s voice breaks through the haze, “Fuck bro you’re really feeling yourself huh?” Harvey’s eyes open to see Brock’s arrogant sneer has only grown worse as he has contendly watch Harvey lavish his new corpus.

Harvey meets it with a scowl and Brock tilts his head, “Want to do one last question then, bro?” His smile grows tight as he tries not to laugh as the appellation of bro has become the paramount definition of this once genius. Harvey just nods his head, still understandably disoriented as he lies in a pool of his own sweat and pre that remains dripping directly onto the floor. Brock motions for him to ask whatever the presumably final question is but is met with a grunt and a wave of the hand. Brock grimaces slightly, “if you insist bud,” he grimaces slightly as he looks down at the man. Asshole he may have be, may still be even, surely there’s something Brock could do to fix even that. He leans to whisper the question in Harvey’s ear, “what color are my eyes.” 

Between grunts, Harvey strains to look at his roommate only to find them obviously closed. His body contorts with pain and pleasure as he feels the throes of defeat and one final lose begin to seize him. He groans out through clenched teeth as his jaw widens and his brows thicken as changes already begin to work upon his mind, “don’t… know…” Brock nods and sits next to his roommate laying Harvey’s head on his lap. At the point it would be a kindness for the man to forget his life before, and that is exactly what he is to do. 

Brock removes the memories and identity of the sour nerd that made life perpetually unpleasant not only for him, but anyone unlucky enough to grace his presence. His breathing speeds up as his body heat rises beyond imagination, sweat turning to steam in the cold dorm room as he shakes his head and clenches his fists. He writhes only briefly, each flex of his body a final protestation of Harvey as Brock erases even his name from his head. 

After a minute of this his body goes still before he opens his eyes blearily and groans. Still lying in Brock’s lap he stretches his arms, turning to smell his impossibly rank pits before turning it into a flex as he must do anytime he raises them. Brock watches this with trepidation, unsure of who exactly his roommate is to be now before suddenly a name surges into his mind, Bull. Perfect fodder for the jerk he once was and an apt name for the behemoth lying on his lap. Testing the waters Brock pats his chest to wake him up, “Morning Bull.”

He yawns and scratches at the same stubbled face he has always known and he sits up, “urgh got a massive headache bro, must have gone pretty hard to have a hangover this bad huhuh! Wanna go grab brekkie and hit up the gym?” Brock stifles a smirk and helps his roommate up to standing, slightly surprised to see him standing taller than himself before responding, “You got it big guy, how about you get some clothes on first though right?” Bull guffaws, looking down at his hairy sweat-drenched body as he throws an arm around his roommate, cock bobbing around in the open air, still chubbed up. “What would I do without you bro huhuh!” 

Brock looks to see all of Bull’s tops have changed to stringers and tanks. Where Harvey had nothing but pants Bull has piles of unwashed athletic shorts, one of which he promptly throws on, going commando. Seeing Brock watch him, Bull grabs at his crotch and juts at the door, “Come on bro! Faster we get a pump in faster we can get back here and have some fun dude.” 

With that Bull again throws his arm around Brock, once more smelling his b.o. as he almost deliberately spreads it on his roommate’s neck, like an animal marking its territory. The two then off to start their day, in Bull’s mind as they always have. Brock feels his crotch grow weightier as the amble down the hall, unsure if he’s made a horrible mistake in all this. Who is he to say what is too far in acts of cosmic retribution. Brock is certain at the end of the day he and Bull are at least to have quite a bit of fun.

[snapscube]

Hey Olivia! I've been thinking about making a video of different snapcube gaming and dub moments that have turned into verbal stims for me, but I know sometimes "compilation" type videos are disliked by creators for obvious reasons.

How would you feel about that? Any stipulations you'd prefer like not posting it to yt or making sure it's modified to be less derivative, or are you neutral on that kind of stuff?

pleaaaaseee make compilations of my stuff i love them so much LOL no stipulations needed literally just link back to the channel and youre good to go. i actively seek out fan compilations a lot of the time, theyre fun to watch and they literally only help me out.

[matan4il]

Because I got asked by more than one person regarding the ICJ case, where South Africa was libeling Israel, then asking for (and getting denied) an extension to find evidence for its libel. They just submitted their case, it's apparently 750 pages long (but just because they talk a lot doesn't mean they're filing anything of substance. We saw the kind of misquotes of what non-policy makers said South Africa has presented as evidence before). Israel has until July 2025 to respond. I doubt we'll have any kind of ruling until 2026...

But that's kind of the point. It takes two seconds to wrongfully accuse someone of a crime they didn't commit, it takes years to prove it wasn't committed by them, and in the meantime, the very discussion of the case in a court can be used to create the impression that the crime was indeed committed. It takes two seconds to destroy and a lifetime to fix and rebuild, and South Africa's current government, which had been accused of corruption and incompetence, has been hellbent on destroying Israel to divert attention away from its own failings. Just like the ICC's chief prosecutor, who suddenly asked for arrest warrants against Israeli leaders exactly when it turns out he needed attention away from allegations against him for sexual misconduct.

Tell me you're wrongfully accusing Jews of heinous crimes, and I'll know you've got an unclean conscience.

Oh, and this is your periodical reminder that the UN is complicit.

In fact, since I mentioned that... you know how the world is raging about the UN's "peacekeeping" force in Lebanon, UNIFIL?

Yeah, they're complicit, too. And I say this from firsthand experience. I served on the border of Lebanon. The complicity was well known.

To give you just one example, UNIFIL soldiers would regularly touch the border fence on its Lebanese side "accidentally" (it happened way too often and too regularly to be an accident). It was pretty obvious that they were doing this because they knew IDF regulations stipulated that Israeli soldiers HAD to respond in person to every such incident, no matter what. Middle of the night? Doesn't matter, we had to get out of bed and respond. A storm's raging outside? Doesn't matter, we had to go out there. We knew it was UNIFIL, and not terrorists? Still, for the sake of Israeli citizens' security, we had to go respond to each incident as if we didn't know that. It was evident that UNIFIL was at best using this little trick to harass the soldiers of the Jewish state. After all, when roughly a quarter of the adult global population is antisemitic, and the "peacekeepers" of UNIFIL came from all over the world, that antisemitism would be expressed in how members of UNIFIL would act. However, it was pretty clear to most of us that this was the best case scenario, but that most likely, it didn't end there, and that UNIFIL was doing this because it provided Hezbollah with valuable info on IDF procedures and alertness. How long did it take us to respond? How many soldiers would arrive on the scene? How would they arrive? Was this influenced by any external conditions, such as the weather? And so on... Keep in mind that Hezbollah has managed to kill and kidnap Israeli soldiers on this border more than once. This was the info that allowed those crimes.

This is just a sliver of my personal account, there are undoubtedly many articles out there on the complicity of UNIFIL. For example, as the war with Hezbollah moved into a ground operation in Lebanon, the IDF has exposed Hezbollah tunnels and command centers built right under the "watchful eye" of UNIFIL, the organization that was supposed to keep that antisemitic terrorist organization in check. (vid below is from Israeli journalist Itay Blumental, of Kann News)

Because the UN is complicit. It is rotten to the core, it is infected with antisemitism, so every single one of its branches dealing with the Jewish state is infected, too.

For all of my posts about the UN and its different branches' complicity, click here. For all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here.

[im-subtextsexual]

I’m glad so many people picked up on the vibes between Eloise and Cressida. Not a ship I ever considered before, but the tension was palpable. I’ve been a Queer Eloise truther since reading the books. Her portrayal on the show only made it more obvious in my mind. I didn’t think the writers would ever go there, but the set up is just so explicit, now I’m not sure. I don’t think they’d actually make Eloise / Cressida canon, but I do think they’re testing the waters for wlw Eloise. And it makes perfect sense. 

First off, the character is queer (I’ll hold off from labeling her a lesbian outright, because there’s definitely room for other identities like bi, demi, ace…. etc.) Even in the books. I legitimately think Julia Quinn accidentally wrote a sapphic character and then didn’t know what to do with her. So what we got is “To Sir Phillip, With Love”, widely considered to be one of the worst in the series. Believe me, if there’s any story that could stand to deviate from the books, it’s this one. And the story could so easily be adapted to a wlw romance, it would be a wasted opportunity not to do it. Like… the story would be better if they tweaked it to fit a queer canon. AND it could be done in a historically accurate way to shut up the naysayers that “a lesbian storyline wouldn’t fit in this universe.” How? Allow me to explain.

*SPOILERS FOR BRIDGERTON SERIES BOOK 5*

In the book, Eloise strikes up a correspondence with Sir Phillip Crane. Yes, THAT Phillip, the one currently married to Marina from season 1&2. Marina kills herself because she can’t stand to be married to Phillip and deal with their children in the wake of her lover / his brother’s death. His initial interest in Eloise is to find a mother for his children. She is intrigued by his intelligence and decides she doesn't want to be alone, but isn’t necessarily eager to marry or have a family. Due to romance novel shenanigans, she runs away to Phillip's house and is forced to marry him. Even as they grow to kind of love each other, it's far from some grand romance. It’s the very definition of “settling”. The most interesting part is the narrative structure of their story being told through letters in the beginning. We could keep all that, but make it gay. 

*Imagine*

Eloise meets some dapper gentlemen new to the marriage mart. We’ll call him Emmett. Very little is known about Emmett and his family as they keep largely to themselves at their estate in the countryside. The only thing that’s widely known is the family suffered a tragic accident where the man of the house and his oldest daughter died, leaving his son (the other twin) to take on the responsibility of rank and title very early. Emmet is making a rare appearance in London to find a wife (there are rumors of stipulations in his inheritance requiring a match). ALL the debutantes are fawning over him because he’s mysterious and extraordinarily good-looking. One might even say “pretty”… To everyone’s great surprise the season’s most eligible bachelor takes a special interest in Eloise after overhearing her talking about her disdain for the social convention of marriage, and how she would only consider it if it were an in-name-only, marriage of convenience. Emmett strikes up a conversation with Eloise and she is taken by his humor, wit and shockingly deep empathy for the limitations society puts on women. They continue to gravitate to each other through the first few events of the season, but Emmett has to return home suddenly because of a family emergency. Eloise is shocked to find herself disappointed, but they promise to write. Cue the correspondence romance.

Eloise grows more and more smitten with Emmett every letter she receives, but still has the same reservations about marriage especially when she thinks of the intimacy a relationship like that would require. When Emmett hints that he may want more than friendship, Eloise's feelings get the better of her and she goes to visit Emmett unannounced. He is shocked to see her, but let's her stay and she gets to know his mother and two younger sisters. The Bridgertons go looking for Eloise, worried something has happened to her. When she is found to have been staying for days in an unwed man's home without a chaperone, the potential scandal causes Anthony to force Eloise and Emmett to marry. Surprisingly, Emmett actually agrees so Eloise does too (all of this is essentially what happens in the book).

Eloise confesses to Emmett that she's nervous/resistant to physical intimacy, but he assures her they never have to be together that way. In fact, he would prefer the marriage of convenience they always talked about. Eloise is relieved until their kiss at the wedding sparks an attraction she wasn't expecting. They spend the first month or so of their marriage sleeping in separate rooms, enjoying each other's company, and letting the tension build. One night, Eloise's control and curiosity finally snaps and she goes to Emmett's room to initiate a physical relationship. She catches Emmett off guard in his sleeping clothes which makes it VERY clear... Emmett is a woman (cliffhanger of episode 4, and where we deviate from book canon to make it queer).

After the initial shock, Eloise allows her new "husband" to explain. Emmett is really Emma, the daughter believed to have died in a carriage accident with her father so many years ago. It was her twin brother that actually died, but since there were no other male heirs, Emma's family fortune would have gone to a distant uncle who is cruel and abusive. To save them of that fate, Emma's mother conspired with the local coroner to make it look like Emma was the one who died, so "Emmett" could inherit everything. Emma has been living as Emmett ever since, successfully keeping up the deception by keeping a low profile in society. The only reason Emma came to London that year is because her uncle died, and a cousin had come around asking questions hoping to inherit. She thought getting married would help secure her identity as Emmett and the cousin would back off. At first Eloise is outraged. She feels betrayed by Emma's duplicity, and is terrified if any of this ever got out everyone they know would be ruined forever. She agrees to keep the secret to save her family's reputation, but shuns Emma. Eventually, Emma (already aware that she's in love with Eloise) attempts to make amends and Eloise is charmed enough that she relaxes back into the relationship they had before the Big Reveal. The only problem is the attraction is still there, even more so now that Eloise knows the truth. Things come to a head, and they go at it Bridgerton style.

Emma and Eloise live happily in a true marriage for a bit until Cressida and Penelope come for a visit. They both find out about Emma, but are sworn to secrecy. Pen easily swears her loyalty (having already suspected Eloise), but Cressida is sickened. In a rage, she threatens to out them all, and storms back to London. Eloise follows her and begs Cressida to keep the secret, and tries to explain why the "wrong" feelings she has for Emma are very right for her. To Eloise's surprise, Cressida isn't upset about what she's doing with Emma, but who she's doing it with. She didn't know what they're doing was an option; that she was an option. Cressida confesses that if she'd known a life with Eloise was a choice she could make, it's the life she would have chosen. Eloise lets Cressida down easy by explaining they didn't have that choice. Everyone in the ton knows who they are. The only reason her relationship with Emma works is because of the ruse that allows Emma to be Emmett. Cressida takes this in stride, and vows to keep the secret, but her mother overhears and causes the biggest scandal London Society has ever seen.

The Bridgertons and a few friends (like Lady Danbury) are as understanding as possible, but the rest of the ton is rabid. Things escalate to the point where Emma and Eloise have to appear before the Queen. Emma pleads her case about pretending to save her family, and insists that Eloise didn't know until well after they were married so she's innocent. Eloise can't help herself and gets on her soapbox about the way society limits women, and that the Queen should understand their plight. Shockingly, she does. She annuls their "marriage" (because they didn't consummate anything... RIGHT?!) but she agrees to let Emma control her family's estate until one of her sisters produces a male heir. After that, she and Eloise will receive a pension from the Crown so they can live independently (the real Queen Charlotte actually did this for suspected historical sapphic couple The Ladies of Llangollen). Since Emma and Eloise would never be able to find husbands now, they decide that they'll just be two spinsters growing old together in their house in the countryside. You know... just two gal pals. No one believes that shit, but they rarely interact with the ton, so they're largely left alone to live as they please.

Happy ending, close to canon, historically accurate, and super gay. It's not that hard. You're welcome.

[french-unknown]

Hellooo, I’m OBSESSED with your work and I was hoping you could do monster trio + law on how would they act before and after they marry their s/o. Don’t be pressured to do this request and stay healthy!<33

𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄/𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: luffy, zoro, sanji, law 𝐂/𝐖: fluff, domestic 𝐀/𝐍: Hellooo! Thank you so much, this comment is so adorable! It’s so nice that you like what I write so much! I hope you will also like this one! Stay healthy too! ୧ʕ•̀ᴥ•́ʔ୨ 𝐖/𝐂:  1k +

| m a s t e r l i s t |

𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐘

✧ Luffy does not particularly want to marry, so his behavior will not change much from before to after. He doesn't even see it as a change in your relationship. He loves you as much as before, it is just now stipulated on a piece of paper.

✧ And he has a ring on his finger that he is not allowed to remove.

✧ Otherwise, he knows he will not have access to the bed unless he has a reaaally good excuse.

✧ The only small change is that, at the beginning, it makes him laugh. He calls his wedding ring "his leash" and makes you joke about having lost it. He quickly notices that you don't laugh at this kind of joke, it even makes you angry sometimes, so he stops.

✧ The subject of marriage will thus completely come out of his mind.

✧ He knows that he has "married" status but it does not bring him anything tangible, so he forgets.

✧ His allies discover that you are married when Luffy is injured and they have to remove everything that is superfluous for care. Like the ring he always drags on his finger. However, Luffy will prick a crisis when they try to remove the jewel and refuse to let it leave his finger. Even if it means becoming violent.

If he is asked for the reason for his opposition, he would answer as if it were obvious: "I will be killed if I take off my wedding ring."

No more noise in the room. Nobody talks.

How is this kid married without anyone knowing it?!

𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎

✧ Zoro is rather in favor of marriage because he remains quite cozy in terms of romantic relationships and marriage can bring more stability and tranquility.

✧ He really likes his routine training-napping-drinking so why not have one with you too.

✧ The biggest difference that your wedding brings is an emotional rapprochement. From couple to married, you have gone from the status of "trusted person" to "main support" so the advantages are not the same.

✧ The disadvantages either!

✧ Wait until he gets out while leaving a messy room behind him and think that, since you are married, you will tidy with him.

✧ He also reveals to you more of his past and, if you have the opportunity, he would take you to Shimotsuki to go together to the tomb of Kuina. You would also meet his former dojo master.

✧ If you accept, your couple will also become the "cliché" of a Japanese bride and groom. Zoro will put himself in the position of the leader of the household who must put you at the shelter of all (physical, financial protection, etc.) and to work. In this entrepreneurial culture, Luffy is the boss to whom the employee is dedicated. You will take the reins of the household with the cleaning and organizing for both of you, as well as the management of money.

✧ You are free to refuse if you want because, even if it tends towards the ideal of Zoro, he will not impose it on you either if you refuse.

✧ This could, however, allow him to be less in debt to Nami if it is you who manage his money.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈

✧ While he was already Lovey Dovey before your wedding, it will grow even more after.

✧ Sanji sees your relationship as a progress bar with objectives to be achieved. The more the gauge progresses and the more it is referring to its ideal of the perfect family. It started with getting into a couple, and now it has taken the step of being married. Next step: the question of children.

✧ Wait until you hear him call you "my wife" in the middle of the day and, when you come to know why he called you, he just answers you "to see what it was like" smiling like a fool.

✧ Can become a little heavy by presenting you only as his wife.

✧ On the other hand, since he was already worshiping you when you were in a couple, he now literally venerates you. Really, he will be the leader of a cult of which you will be the idol. Even more if you accept having children together.

✧ Is definitely a slave for you.

✧ You also have the privilege of finally passing in front of other women. This is the first time in your life where you can simply call him and he immediately leaves the sides of Nami AND Robin without asking a question. He still flirts but he is less extreme while doing it. He is more posed.

✧ However, he is much less demanding of marks of affection coming from you, compared to before when he could be downright invasive, because being married reassures him of the fact of being loved.

𝐋𝐀𝐖

✧ Unfortunately, there is a post-mariating relaxation concerning the manners of Mr. Trafalgar D. Waterlaw.

✧ Where before he forced himself to do actions to please you or to be—and God forgives him—romantic, he now takes his ease. He pretended to listen to you, before, when you were talking for hours of your day but, now, he pretends to fall asleep to show you how bored he is. Has he brought you breakfast in bed? Now: "You do have legs, no? Use them, then."

✧ It is not supposed to be mean, but he grumbles a lot.

✧ Yet, you quickly realize that he gives you a place in his life and space.

✧ Even if he no longer makes any effort to show you that he listens and is interested, you just have to mention that you missed something for it to appear mysteriously a few days later. He no longer gave you breakfast but all the elements were already prepared when you arrived in the kitchen. You just have to cook them or put them on a plate.

✧ A real tsundere!

✧ The real post-marital black point is that he makes less effort to plan time for you. He thus accepts more workload and remains locked up in his office longer than before he passes the ring on the finger.

✧ He takes you for granted since you accepted.

✧ If you let it do, it can either end in divorce without he realizing it or he will agree to plan more time for you in his schedule. You can blackmail him with ridiculous actions.

𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @iheartamora @bontensh0e @opchara @lys-ada @viscade @dozcan123 @kai-wifey

[yumeka-sxf]

Seems like this chapter just about wrapped up the Mole Hunt arc. I decided to analyze a bit more than I usually do with my chapter reviews since there was a lot to talk about on the Twiyor front!

When Fiona questioned Twilight about not killing Yuri, he gave his official "for the mission" reason, but slipped up by calling Yor "Yor-san" instead of "Yor Briar." This made it obvious to Fiona (who already knows about him softening) that he's trying desperately hard to cover up those feelings. Even though this would have been a good opportunity for her to imply that she's a better fit for the wife role, she doesn't even try because she knows Twilight would defend "Yor-san" in every subtle way he could.

When he gets home and finds out that Yor doesn't actually have gripes with him, he's relieved of that last load of stress and is finally able to relax, causing him to collapse (similar to the very first chapter when he collapsed after Anya passed the Eden entrance exam). After he realizes how utterly exhausted he is, he can't help but ask Yor to help out with his housework.

Her reply is what really makes everything sink in for him - despite all his attempts to be a flawless spy, she doesn't want him to be that way. She's happy when she can be useful to him and thinks it's bad if he pushes himself to be perfect all the time.

And yet, that's exactly what he has to be in order to survive as a spy. The fact that he had to ask someone for help with simple housework, plus someone telling him that he doesn't have to be perfect, made him recall the feeling he had when he looked into Wheeler's eyes...that he lives in a world where you have to be perfect in order to survive, and having any kind of weakness just won't due.

While Twilight continues to be clueless about Fiona's feelings for him among other things, what he does realize at the end of this arc is his own feelings - that he does have a weakness. He's beginning to understand more than ever that a spy can't afford to be anything but perfect. And yet, his refusal to kill Yuri, which is a result of him caring about Yor (even though he gave Fiona his usual "for the mission" reason, she saw right through it) is conflicting him even more.

I also have to point out how considerate Yor was of Loid's exhaustion - she completely pushed Yuri away, even after noticing he was injured. She didn't even invite him to stay and have tea with them!

What Twilight was about to say to Yor (in his mind) before Yuri interrupted is debatable, but going by his previous line of thought, it was probably something bittersweet like "which is why...once Operation Strix is over, I'll have to leave the Forgers" or possibly something more immediate, where he now realizes how compromised he truly is and so might reconsider the stipulations of Operation Strix even before it's over. Though I think it's more of the former since his thoughts in the shower in the next scene make it seem like he's not ready to do anything drastic yet, but the idea is still gnawing at him.

Fiona had noticed his leaking emotions way back when she was first introduced, but this is the first time Twilight himself is realizing it and not denying it. Whether anything major will change in his actions from now on is yet to be seen. Will there be another aftermath chapter or two with Twilight still being jostled by this realization? Or will things go back to normal now and he'll brush those feelings aside for another day? It seems like Yuri has been totally thrown off the scent, so his identity should be safe for the time being. Will Anya get to read his mind the next morning and finally find out everything that happened? The next new chapter won't be out for another 4 weeks, so brace yourself for a grueling wait!

[zweiginator]

do u tbink reader and bsf!patrick would ever start hooking up but in like a fwb way? bc imagine….and wildly enough it’s HER who’s like ‘cant get attached’ blah blah blah. like it’s her being the one to make it clear that this doesn’t change anything, she’s completely platonic outside of it (well ok not really), she won’t think of them as dating even tho they practically are.

and it’s so obvious she thinks he’s not taking it seriously. assumes he’s going on dates. tries to not think ab it.

n eventually he just like loses it. points out how "it’s not fucking fair. you do all this shit to me, with me, and now you’re acting like i’m the crazy one for thinking we’re more than just fuck buddies? that’s all you wanna be? fuck off" and angry sex…..

NOT SURE JUST SOME THOUGHTS…

yes. youve seen patrick's ex girlfriends, how obsessed they still are with him. there is something so egregiously intoxicating about him--it scares you. truly knocks the wind out of you.

you didn't get it before you became friends with benefits. before you leapt over that line in the sand that had been toed over for year and years.

but that one night in september when patrick had just broken up with a girl, and you were feeling upset after yet another horrible date--you got it.

patrick comforted you that night. it felt selfish; you were upset about a guy you met maybe twice. he had just dumped a girl he thought he truly loved.

you brought up the idea.

"let's just be friends with benefits." you plead. the truth was that you were so curious about him. as he grew more and more and became a man instead of an immature little boy--you wanted to feel him.

"what are you talking about?" he didn't want to ruin your friendship. but thee truth was that he had broken up with his girlfriend because of a petty little disagreement. it was trivial, really. he told himself it was just pure incompatibility. but in reality, he resented her for not being more like you. nobody could be you--except for you.

patrick knew it would be complicated. for some reason, you figured it wouldn't be. patrick was always hooking up with and talking to new girls. it seemed like he had the no strings attached thing down pat.

patrick made love to you that night. that was the only way to describe it. slow, meaningful, deep thrusts, your legs wrapped around his waist. desparate for him to be closer.

his words were filthy. he spread your cunt open and cooed about how pretty it was. how it opened up just for him. how wet he had made you. so pretty. so perfect.

it made you cum. it made your nails dig and dig and dig into his back.

you understood how his exes turned obsessive. maybe not even turned.

so you vowed to never get too attached. to never ruin your friendship.

you never slept over at his place, and you never allowed him to stay the night at yours. no pillow talk or sweet nothings. no dates.

of course, these stipulations had loose definitions. and as best friends, it was inevitable to show appreciation to each other, to go out to an occasional nice dinner or impromptu lunch.

patrick was becoming more and more livid with you. you didn't know what had changed. he was more bossy in bed; he went from slow sessions of eating your pussy to slapping his cock on your tongue and commanding you: fucking suck on it.

of course, you liked it. you loved anything he did to you. but maybe you missed how sweet he used to be. you wouldn't admit to yourself why that was.

valentine's day was soon. and maybe patrick had assumed that you would be his date. he made reservations for you.

"patrick, what are you talking about? no, i'm not gonna be your valentine." you shake your head, taking his tennis rackets from him to shove in the backseat.

"what the fuck do you mean 'what am i talking about?'" patrick lowers his voice. "we've been fucking for like 6 months why are you acting like this?"

"exactly," you say. "we've been fucking. we haven't been dating. i told you this would be purely platonic when we started."

patrick scoffs, slamming the door. he's yelling at you now. "so you're just gonna act like i'm fucking crazy for thinking this is more than platonic when it is definitely more than platonic?" he forces the car into reverse, driving away angrily.

"you're mad because i'm keeping my word--no, our word."

"whatever." patrick spat. "you're full of fucking shit. acting like this hasn't been dating this whole fucking time. making me seem like a fucking idiot for thinking you liked me."

"i do like you-"

patrick seethes; the vein in his neck pulses as he parks the car. he's dropping you off at your apartment.

"get the fuck out. go home. this is over--all of it is."

you gather your things and get out of patrick's car. you have barely shut the door when he skids away. your breath is visible in the cold february air, but your body is hot, and stiff with anger and confusion.

you think he will break and call you first. but one week passes, and then valentine's day. and soon it's march and you haven't so much as seen patrick for almost a month.

it's stupid. you go to patrick's apartment. you look like a lost puppy dog.

he doesn't answer the door. you know he's home. his car is in the driveway, you hear music in his living room. maybe he's with another girl. maybe he really did move on.

you don't leave. it's freezing, and your jacket is light--it's not made for the dry cold that hurts at the end of winter.

patrick opens the door.

"what the fuck are you doing here?"

your lip wobbles.

"it's freezing out here what's your problem?"

patrick bullies you. he pulls you inside and wraps you in a blanket but sits on the opposite side of the couch. doesn't say a word.

you speak up; he cuts you off.

"i have nothing to say to you."

now you're begging. you're crying and the tears are stinging and you're on patrick's lap trying to get him to notice you.

"please pat, p-please. i miss you."

patrick grabs your jaw. he's stern. "this isn't how platonic friends act. this isn't how you fucking cry when you're just friends."

he's right.

you pull at his shirt. "please, i need you, i'll do anything. want you to be mine. i was so--stupid."

patrick is hard beneath you. he likes this.

"you're so fucking pathetic." he spits.

you get down on your knees in front of him.

"i'm so stupid."

"show me how much you want me." he pushes his sweatpants off; he's wearing no underwear. and his cock looks bigger. just as angry as he is.

you grab him into your hands and spit on his cock, moaning as you kiss it all over. lick him from his balls to the weeping head of his cock. suckling on him and hallowing your cheeks. saying im sorry im sorry im sorry.

he slaps his cock on your face. tells you you should be.

you feel how he pulses in your mouth; he groans as he pushes your face into his balls. you suck them into your mouth. your eyes water and your pussy drools for him.

patrick pulls you up. puts you on top of him. pushes your cunt onto his throbbing cock until you're gasping. god he's big and he's fucking relentless. you're not even moving and he's fucking up into you so hard you feel like you have whiplash.

but god, it feels so good. patrick pulls your hair, palms your ass, slaps your face. he rubs your clit and laughs at you. laughs at how much you're moaning. how easy you are.

"are you fucking sorry?" he asks. his balls slap against your ass.

you can barely get a word out.

"yes--i'm so sorry."

"tell me you love me." he wipes a tear from your eye. "tell me you fucking love me."

you nod, cumming right then. coating his cock in your slick, milking him.

"i love you patrick. love you so much. i'll never leave you again."

patrick cums too.

[pennyserenade]

more headcanons about jonathan crane:

he has no interest in a breeding kink unless it’s in direct relation to fear. being someone’s father is not interesting to him. he thinks there’s better ways to show you possess someone than that

he’s a lingerie guy—intricate, lacy designs and high heels and those bras that push your tits up to your chin. he likes it especially when you wrap your body in something modest and prim too, but doesn’t especially care how you dress enough to tell you that

he kinda likes being made jealous. though he finds it on the whole to be an unproductive emotion, he takes joy in experimenting on those fools who dare flirt with you, and he finds fucking you more…satisfying when he feels you’ve slighted him in some way. he doesn’t want to be cheated on, though. you’ll die.

he eats pussy better than any person could account for, given the self-interest he displays on any given day. though his attitude screams selfish lover, he’s actually rather attentive. not entirely out of sentiment, of course, but more self interest. eating pussy is a great way to get someone to trust you and when someone trusts you, they’re malleable. he doesn’t always do it to bend and shape, though. you’ve just got to exercise caution and have uncertainty, which he likes.

he’s not exactly the reigning champion of women’s rights, but he likes a woman with a strong, clever brain. a fool’s no good to him, as they come dime a dozen. if he wanted that, he’d stay in a lab and experiment on rats. the more intelligent you are, the better. he likes challenges and puzzles and the thrill of breaking a good mind apart.

he’ll let you experiment on him, but it’s not necessarily a complete relinquishment of his power when he does. it’s because he wants to know the limits of his own body and what fear does to him. for example, because he has no interest in a breeding kink or children, he’ll bite when you threaten to make him a father. it makes him sweat. same as when you choke him to the point of almost blacking out. he doesn’t particularly like that, but he’ll do anything for a good experiment. the only stipulation is that you must tell him you’re going to do something before you start having sex. you don’t have to tell him what, but he must be informed that something is going to happen

he likes when you’re fully naked and he’s fully dressed for obvious power reasons but also because he enjoys when you make a mess of his suits. it isn’t something he thought he’d enjoy, being as cleanly and as clinical as he is, but he’s only a man and he knows sexual desire has little to do with reason or logic.

he fucking loves period sex. you’re more wet and warm, and he finds the sight of red on his cock to be brilliant. better yet, he loves when you both make a terrible fucking mess of it. if it looks like someone was murdered when you’re finished, he’s definitely had a good orgasm and so have you—probably many times

he’s for corporal punishment in the bedroom and a bright red ass is a pretty sight to him

[nohoperadio]

Let's say there's an online community of people who all have Whatever Syndrome. They talk about all the difficulties and frustrations and issues etc related to Whatever Syndrome. They share advice, they vent, sometimes they just chat and enjoy talking to people who can relate to them properly. Sometimes they make fun relatable observational comedy-style memes about common Whatever Syndrome experiences.

Some of the experiences they make memes about will probably overlap to some extent with the experiences of people who are not on the WS spectrum at all. Let's stipulate (made-up, obviously meaningless numbers incoming) that 10% of the memes they make appeal to a non-WS audience in this way, but 90% are highly specific to the WS niche and won't really be appreciated by outsiders.

In this scenario, the 10% of universally relatable memes will, because they are universally relatable, likely spread far beyond the core WS community. The 90% of niche ones will not (why would they?). From the perspective of someone without WS who doesn't engage with the WS community directly, this will look like 100% of all WS memes seeming to be about things that are just universal human experiences being described as WS-specific experiences for no particular reason. This person might begin to suspect that WS is just a trendy diagnosis that arbitrarily groups completely normal personality traits as a medical issue and that the whole thing is maybe kind of fake. This person is not being unreasonable given the information they have, but for reasons that are hopefully obvious the information they have is very skewed.

On the other hand! If this sort of thing distorts the public perception of what WS is about strongly enough, some people are going to latch onto the relatable memes about it, relate to them (because they're relatable), and wonder if maybe that means they themselves might have WS. This person might do a bit of googling and discover that, in addition to all the relatable stuff they relate to, there are other symptoms that they don't really identify with as much... but then, no one really seems to talk about those things very often, you mostly see people talking about [relatable stuff] when WS comes up, so the latter must be like, the main part, right? So (they think) it can't be too important if the other stuff doesn't apply to me.

[also the whole medical establishment is nightmarishly hard to access and a lot of doctors suck and make diagnoses based on random whims and prejudices, blah blah blah you know all this, the point is that the most obvious solution to "how do I confirm whether I do or don't have a specific medical thing?" is often not reliable.]

Well now, given all of the above... stuff might get confusing huh!

Okay, okay, (you might say), that's all well and good as a toy model of things that might be underlying the discourse you're alluding to, but to what extent is this dynamic actually responsible for what's actually happening? Aha! I have no clue whatsoever, sorry. I'm just the ideas guy.

[blues824]

Its 💗🌸 /Rosa / @toconolaw ^×^

Staff doing secret Santa with magic music arts teacher s/o! But some how teacher s/o's twk familiar which are chinchillas that gets a bit aggressive/ jealous!!

You requested: Secret Santa

The Wiki said Vargas is shorter than Sam 💀

Dire Crowley

The fact that you’re married to this man was mysterious enough. However, you had asked about a possible Secret Santa amongst the staff to add some more mystery to the pot. The rest of the staff members agreed, and so all your names were put into a hat, and you drew a name. You had gotten Professor Mozus Trein, and you immediately noted that you might want to go to a pet store to get some treats for Lucius.

One stipulation in this Secret Santa game was that you put a charm on the hat so that neither you nor your husband could choose each other. After all, you both knew each other quite well, so it would be cheating. After everyone drew their names, you immediately went to Sam’s shop with your chinchilla. If there was anyone who would have what you needed, it would be him.

You actually ran into Crowley there, and who his gift was for was rather obvious, as he was purchasing some protein powder. Once you had purchased everything you were going to, which included new inkwells and a crystal pen, along with catnip, your husband had extended his arm to you. You put your hand in the crook of his elbow, and your familiar hopped from your shoulder to his. It took years for the little animal to even let your husband touch you, but now it seems you both have to fight over him.

Leaning your head on his free shoulder, you spoke to him.

“I love you, Dire Crowley.”

Now, he had a bit of a quirk about him. He never says ‘I love you’ directly back. He says it’s ‘too simple’. Instead, he would say something poetic, and it made your heart flutter every single time.

“In the musical tapestry of our connection, your presence is a delicate arpeggio that dances through the notes of my heart, composing a ballad only the two of us can hear.”

With that you both kissed each other, starting to head back to his office, where the wrapping paper and ribbons that you needed for the gifts were.

Divus Crewel

Being wed to this man meant a life of elegance. He wouldn’t let you settle for anything less. That being said, you were also a professor at NRC, and since you were a staff member, you proposed in the staff meeting that you all do a Secret Santa of sorts. Crewel was all for it… until you put a spell on the hat that would prevent you and him from getting one another. You pulled Sam’s name, and you had to admit that you were completely stumped.

Luckily, your chinchilla has been around, and it learned Sam’s favorite food. That being said, you needed to go to the town below NRC to get the ingredients necessary to make the chicken gumbo that your friend loved so much. Your husband went with you, and a few people paused in the street upon seeing you both, such an elegant and beautiful couple, doing such domestic things… or maybe it was your familiar.

Now, once you got to the grocery store, you both separated so that you could get the things you both required. You had no idea who Divus had gotten, and he did not want you to know until the day you would give everyone their presents. In addition to all the stuff you purchased, you bought some dried fruit for your animal.

You both headed to your apartment, where you started making a huge pot of chicken gumbo. Your husband came up from behind you and put his hands on your hips, pulling your back flush against his chest.

“I love you, honey~” You sang softly, before starting to hum as you put all the chopped veggies into the big pot on the stove.

The chinchilla you grew to love climbed from your shoulder to his, and all the way to the top of his head.

“I love you too, darling,” He leaned down to place a kiss on your temple, but the chinchilla sitting on the top of his head pulled a strand of his hair.

He let out a yelp of pain before removing the animal and placing it back on your shoulder, where it was giving him a death glare that could probably kill a very weak human. He mumbled about how jealous the familiar got, and you just let out a laugh.

Ashton Vargas

To be this man’s spouse meant that you probably had a very active lifestyle, or you knew where to duck away to hide from his “couple’s workouts”. Luckily, your chinchilla often took your place.  Anyway, at the staff meeting, you proposed that you do a Secret Santa, and Vargas agreed with that idea. Even when you put a spell on the hat that prevented you from getting one another, it was fine. You pulled Divus Crewel’s name, and you had a few ideas that came to mind for your gift to him.

You had to go to town, however, and your husband did not like you going alone. He was a tad worried that something was going to happen to you, so you strolled down the street with your guard dog and guard chinchilla privileges. You decided to get Professor Crewel some gift cards for a new restaurant that has opened up recently. He told you that he was considering going, and maybe he could come back and tell you if the place is a good date location.

Ashton got Crowley, and so you both just went around town to see what he would like. Personally, you would have loved to give him a knuckle sandwich for pushing all of his responsibilities on one of your beloved students, who you viewed as your own children. However, you settled on getting him dumbbells, so maybe he would have a chance to catch the hands you’re going to throw.

Boarding the bus that would take you back to NRC, along with a bunch of students, the Coach that you happened to love pulled you onto his lap, surprising you. You were incredibly embarrassed as a few students started to whisper, but he wasn’t letting you go. Your chinchilla tried to bite him, but nothing came of it.

“Coach Vargas, if you don’t let me go right now, there will be consequences when we get home!” You exclaimed.

However, your husband broke out the puppy-dog eyes. A groan of annoyance made its way out of your mouth before you finally stopped struggling against him, and you resigned yourself to your fate.

“I love you, baby,” The mere amount of love in that sentence made you melt, placing a kiss on his cheek in response. A few nearby students, who you both taught, by the way, started ‘awwww’ing, making you even more embarrassed than before.

“Shush, you! Otherwise you all get detention and you have to help me grade assignments!” A smile was on your face as you made this threat, as you weren’t completely serious. This also made the students laugh, as well as your husband.

Mozus Trein

You two had grown close because of Lucius. Normally, Trein would never be interested in someone so young, as he was nearing the age of 60 and you were in your 30’s. However, your music lured his cat, and as you played the piano, Lucius plopped himself on your lap. A few years later, you were married, and you found yourself in the staff room during a meeting, and you proposed a Secret Santa so as to get into the holiday spirit. Names were drawn, and you had picked Coach Vargas.

Again, a few ideas came to mind on what you could get him, but a lot of them required you going to town. Your husband also had to go, so you decided to go together. Luckily for you, you were able to head to the fitness section and get what you needed. You also called into a high-end gym in the area and you asked if you could purchase a day-pass for a friend, and they let you..

Mozus headed to the stationery section of the store, and you had two guesses on the names he picked out. Your chinchilla was chilling on your shoulder as you made it through checkout, texting your husband to meet you in the square once he was finished. You then headed to the meeting location, enjoying the scenery and the different people that were in the town.

It didn’t take long for him to meet you there, and he also got some other stuff for when you both headed back home for the holidays. You had another Secret Santa thing going on with your step-daughters and your sons-in-law. The older professor took the animal from your shoulder and placed it on his as he held his hand out to you to help you off the bench.

“What a gentleman~ Thank you, darling.” You said as you stood. He lifted your hand to his lips to place a kiss on your knuckle.

“It would be wrong to teach our students to be something that I’m not,” You both started walking to the bus that would take you back to NRC.

“I love you, Mozus Trein,” You said.

“I love you, too, Y/N Trein,” He answered, a hint of a smile on his face as you place a kiss on his cheek and go to board the bus.

Sam

You were not married to Sam… yet. It all felt like a fever dream, as he had proposed to you in the most casual way possible. You both had met at the first staff meeting, where he kept writing on the corners of your notes. However, your chinchilla was not exactly happy about how you both kept giggling with another, and it even bit one of his fingers. Time skip to now, where you had an engagement ring on your finger, your chinchilla is on his shoulder, and you proposed a Secret Santa amongst the staff.

From the hat, you pulled out the name of the Headmage. Sam could see the anger in your eyes, and he was snickering because he already guessed who you got. You looked like the only thing you wanted to give Crowley was a large stick up his derrière, and that just made him burst out into laughter. He himself pulled Crewel’s name, and his friends on the other side had a few gift ideas.

Anyway, you both headed into town and walked around, window shopping. It was like a moment in a Hallmark Christmas movie, where you both kind of dance around each other, laughing and not taking anything seriously. Even though you were yet to be officially married, you were in a honeymoon phase. Well, you were always in a honeymoon phase because Sam never let the romance die out.

To get back to the Secret Santa shopping, you purchased a calendar for the next year. It wasn’t anything special. You also bought some pens, muttering about how the old crow was lucky you weren’t going to shove them down his throat. Your fiancé just laughed it off and got some gift cards for Professor Crewel. 

“Are you ready, my imp?” He asked after you checked out, holding his hand out to you.

“I wish this didn’t have to end… I love finally being able to spend time with you, love.”

“Who said we were going to go back just yet? I’m not quite done with you either…” He placed a kiss on your lips, and you felt a pressure around you that you knew wasn’t coming from Sam, but rather his shadow.

“You’re not the only one, apparently,” You giggled.

[hannahbarberra162]

The Crocodile's Gambit, Part 2

I can't seem to write short fics :/ Crocodile's never been rejected, and he's not starting now.

on Ao3

Chapter one

~~~

“No.”

Crocodile was stunned by your swift rejection. You didn’t even think twice about his offer or consider the pros and cons. It was in stark contrast to the way he knew your mind worked, weighing the odds of different outcomes, like you did in chess.

“What do you mean no?” he gritted out.

“Oh, right. No, thank you,” you replied, inclining your head. That was not what he had meant. Crocodile had been trying to teach you some social etiquette, including saying please and thank you. Now was not the time.

“Fine, name your price,” Crocodile said dismissively, crossing one leg over the other. Maybe you needed something else to sweeten the deal other than joining a better crew. If you wanted to negotiate, well, this was Crocodile’s expertise. Confusion registered on your face. 

“Price for what?” you asked.

“Price to leave the Clown and join me,” Crocodile said, as if it was obvious. Crocodile had money and power, he was sure he could acquire whatever it was you asked for. You knew him well, you knew you had him over a barrel. Now you wanted to milk him dry, and he wasn’t even upset about it. It was shrewd business practices.

“No, thank you,” you declined again, starting to rise from your chair once more.

“What do you mean, ‘no?” Crocodile wasn’t used to being told no, and certainly not multiple times in a row. He wasn’t planning on starting now. 

“You already said that. And I already said no, twice. There’s nothing that will get me to leave Captain Buggy. It won’t happen,” you shrugged. This was an unexpected wrinkle in Crocodile’s plans, especially now that the negotiations for an alliance were over. There was potential for an alliance with just Mihawk, but their time with the Clown had come to an end. Unfortunately for the Clown, this would be one of his last days before he went to the Grand Line in the sky.

“I see,” Crocodile said, steepling his fingers. He allowed you to stand up and start cleaning up the board and pieces. Crocodile was stewing, sand was piling up, and the air in the room was tense. You didn’t seem to care, continuing to clean. He needed to gather more information from the Clown. He needed his little maid, and he would have her.

~

He found the Clown in his quarters reading over the most recent newspaper. Crocodile slammed the door open, causing the Clown to look up uneasily. The Clown didn’t say anything, which was better than when he was animated or angry. Crocodile stalked over to the Clown and slammed his hook into the Clown’s desk, skewering the newspaper the Clown was reading in the process. 

“Why won’t the maid leave you?” Crocodile demanded. The Clown cocked an eyebrow but didn’t immediately cower. 

“Which one? There are a few housekeepers -” the Clown began. Crocodile was in no mood for games. The Clown knew who he was talking about, Crocodile had spoken to the Clown about relieving you from some of your evening duties already. He pulled his hook out of the table and put the ever-so-sharp tip under the chin of the Clown.

“You know which one. Why?” For whatever reason, the Clown knew his crew very well. Crocodile had seen him addressing each and every one of them by name, and seemed to know a lot of personal details about them all as well. He was also oddly protective over them, Crocodile noticed. Many of his more reasonable stipulations for the alliance centered around the benefits due to his crew or their living conditions. It wasn’t Crocodile’s style, but the Clown was good at rallying people about him. He made them feel like they belonged , which was laughable, but they enjoyed such feelings. Crocodile didn't value loyalty, unless someone was loyal to him.

Intimidating the Clown usually worked well and quite easily. Of course now the Clown found his courage, when it was most inconvenient. The Clown shrugged, the hook digging further into the soft skin of his jaw. A drop of blood dripped down the hook, Crocodile would have to polish that off later. Another irritant.

“Ask her yourself, not my place to say.” One small movement from Crocodile and all his problems with the Clown would be over. But then you’d probably be upset with him, and maybe refuse to play chess against him. Crocodile seethed, blew smoke from his cigar into the Clown’s face, and left. The Clown didn’t know how lucky he was that you were on his crew. He’d have to figure out his next move.

The next night, Crocodile waited for you as usual. The day had passed so slowly, he thought time was at a halt. Finally, it was time for your nightly chess games. Crocodile was seated in his comfortable armchair, leg crossed at the knee. He was already smoking, and his hook gleamed in the evening light. You showed up on time, seemingly in a good mood. Maybe your rejection didn’t mean much to you, but it had an affect on Crocodile. True to form, you ignored Crocodile’s snippy mood and set the board as the former Warlord stewed. After turning white to Crocodile, you waited. You sat back, patiently waiting for Crocodile to make the first move.

“Why won’t you leave?” Crocodile asked, his voice low and dangerous. You didn’t flinch.

“I don’t want to talk about this. If you’re going to be moody, we can play another time,” you said acerbically and stood up to leave.

“You’ll leave when I tell you to leave,” Crocodile said, sand starting to swirl again. He’d tried to contain his emotions, upset that he was getting angry already. You hadn’t apologized or even reconsidered, like he hoped you would. Crocodile had never handled rejection well and now was no exception. 

“I want you to join my crew willingly, but I’m open to other avenues as well,” Crocodile said, accentuating each word. The threat was clear. You cackled. Crocodile was a hardened man but your eerie laugh gave him pause.

“Do you think that’s enough for me to leave Captain Buggy?” you asked, almost mocking him. Crocodile immediately knew physical threats wouldn’t work on you, not for this. He'd intimidated many people over the years, and some people's characters made them immune to a physical suggestion. You untied the knot of your scarf at the back of your neck, letting it flutter to the floor. “Maybe you can finish the job, eh?” Crocodile looked at your now bare neck as you stretched your head upwards. There was a huge, painful looking scar crossing your entire neck. It had obviously been slashed at some point in the past, you were lucky you survived. The scar tissue was thick and puckered, like whoever had sewn you back together was lacking in experience or time. It mirrored his own smaller scar across his face.

“What does the Clown have that is so important to you?” Crocodile couldn’t understand what the Clown could offer to anyone, much less someone like yourself. 

“It isn’t what he has, it’s what he’s given me,” you spat out, your lip curling in disgust. “Someone like you couldn’t understand.” Crocodile didn’t move his hook, he didn’t want you to leave before the conversation concluded in his favor. You looked up at Crocodile with your large eyes, anger simmering in your vision. “Do you know why Captain Buggy’s crew is so loyal? Do you know where he finds us?”

“Enlighten me,” Crocodile drawled. He was actually curious about this facet of the Clown so allow you to talk down to him - once.

“Captain Buggy goes to slave auctions,” you began. Crocodile frowned, he had absolutely no tolerance for the slave trade. The Clown wouldn’t live to see the end of the day if what you said was true. 

“He buys slaves who are left over at the end of the auction at a deep discount. Do you know the first thing he does with us after he buys us?” Crocodile could only imagine what Buggy did - branding, torture, brainwashing…all were common techniques for new slaves. You stared deep into Crocodiles eyes.

“He frees us.” Crocodile moved his hook away from you and sat back down in his chair, crossing his legs once more. “He frees us and invites us to join his crew. We aren’t compelled, we all make the choice to join him. Those who don’t join begin their new lives as free people. Captain Buggy has actually helps people . That’s why everyone is so happy to see his Jolly Roger and his ship. They’re cheering for their hero.” 

“He gives us freedom and hope when the best we could hope for was a swift death, rather than being tortured or beaten to death, if not worse.” You were getting heated defending your Captain, raising your voice and almost yelling. “So no, I won’t leave Captain Buggy. I can’t be bought - not anymore. He has something no one else has ever had - my loyalty.” You finished, panting for breath. You belatedly realized you had yelled at Crocodile, but you didn’t seem to care. You picked your scarf off the floor and stomped out of the room. Crocodile ran his hand through his hair.

After the disastrous event the previous night, you declined all of Crocodile’s invitations to play chess for the following three days. Crocodile understood why, but that didn’t mean he was pleased about it.  He tried talking to you, but you were avoiding him, not even coming to clean his office. He sent you gifts, flowers and jewels, even a fine silk scarf. You declined them all, returning them to him unopened. Crocodile was at a loss as to what to do - he couldn’t buy you and he couldn’t threaten you. If you were anyone else, he would simply force you to join him, or blackmail you via your Captain. But it wouldn’t be the same, and he thought you would play poorly under such circumstances. No, he had to do something drastic. 

~~~

“And so, we are forming the Cross Guild!” Captain Buggy said with flourish to the cheers of his crew, gathered before him on the deck of the ship. Crocodile had reignited negotiations between himself and the Clown, and had corralled Mihawk as well. Crocodile had actually gained some modicum of respect for the Clown when you’d enlightened him to the Clown’s recruiting habits. The three of them would soon control the seas as Emperors, with Buggy as the figurehead. Now you’d all be in one large crew, with you reporting to Crocodile and Buggy equally. You couldn’t avoid him any longer, and you didn’t have to break your loyalty to the Clown. He’d solved the problem, outmaneuvering you for once.

Once the speech was over, Crocodile looked over to you in the crowd of idiots. He’d spotted you immediately, of course, and watched over you during the speech. You were frowning, the only one out of the whole crowd. You narrowed your eyes and found Crocodile’s own. Of course, the smartest member of the crew had figured it out, Crocodile thought. You clapped for your Captain but as the crew gave way to celebrations, you slipped away among the revelry of the crew.

You would sail together with Crocodile on a new ship created for the Guild. He could always change his mind at a later time, kill the Clown and take you with him. For now, the Clown would live to see more days at sea, thanks to you. Crocodile wasn’t going to lose the best chess opponent he’d ever had over a mere business venture.  Money could come from many different sources, but interesting chess matches only came from you. He followed you as inconspicuously as he could, going beneath the deck as the idiots started drinking. Mihawk followed Crocodile’s movements with his yellow eyes, an unspoken question in the air. Crocodile ignored the Swordsman, it wasn’t his business.

Crocodile caught up to you quickly, you were on the way to the crew quarters. Stopping in front of you, Crocodile blocked your way through the hallway. You glared at him, but didn’t try to go around. The two of you were taking up the majority of the small, dark hallway.

“Seems that I’m your Captain now,” Crocodile drawled. He didn’t want to gloat, you were always gracious when you won and he wanted to extend the same to you as well. You grunted a reply, but didn’t say anything. “Would you like to meet at our regular time?”

“For what?” you asked, still angry and pretending to be obtuse. 

“Our chess matches, of course.” You scoffed, crossing your arms. He knew you couldn’t refuse now that he was your superior.

“Price has gone up,” you said flatly, crossing your arms over your chest. Crocodile smiled. For all of your bluster, maybe you could be bought. He didn’t care that he’d entwined his name and reputation with the Clown’s - he would finally have what he wanted. 

“And?”

“You have to call him Captain Buggy,”  you stated.

“Absolutely not,” Crocodile balked. “The Clown doesn’t deserve it.”

You frowned. Crocodile wasn’t budging and neither were you. Neither of you spoke, waiting for the other to break the tension.

“Call him Buggy then, if you three are equally the Captains. And Captain Buggy in front of the crew,” you bartered. Crocodile bit into his cigar.

“Three matches a night, I’ll call the Clo- him Buggy in front of the crew,” Crocodile countered.

“Three matches, time variable, call him Captain,” you retorted.

“Three matches a night, I’ll call him Buggy.” Crocodile felt the vein in his forehead about to explode. He couldn’t imagine having to show the Clown any consistent respect. But you had something he wanted and he wasn’t going to lose it over some stupid title for the stupid Clown.

You gave a small satisfied smile, grabbing his hook with your sweaty hand. Crocodile almost stabbed you reflexively, but held back at the last moment. You moved his hook up and down. “It’s a deal. See you tonight.” You sidestepped Crocodile easily and moved along to your quarters. Even though he’d gotten what he set out for, he somehow felt you still had him in checkmate.

~

The next few months were busy but unexpectedly pleasant for Crocodile. He spent his time working, cementing the hold the Cross Guild had over their territory, and running all the finances of the organization. Of course, he still took time to intimidate, maim and kill those who needed it, he had a reputation to maintain after all. But his real joy was coming from playing chess day after day against you. Crocodile had gotten better, even winning against you a few times. Your genuine praise when he did so made Crocodile feel like he’d won the title of King of the Pirates, not just won a chess game against a housekeeper. Crocodile counted down the hours until evening, when you would come and join him in his study. He continued to give you books to read and lessons in how to express yourself, trying to make you into the best version of yourself. After all, you were now a crew member for the Cross Guild, not just the Clo- Buggy.

One balmy night as the ship sailed through the waters of the Grand Line, Crocodile was on his way to his office a few minutes later than usual. He had thought of some new gambits he wanted to try, not that he thought they would work. But he came up short outside the door to his office, hearing talking from within. One was yours, he didn’t hear another voice but knew there were two people inside. Instead of breaking down the door with the sand that was already appearing like he wanted to, Crocodile decided to listen in.

“Check,” you said in a bored tone. Crocodile could almost picture your body language, chin resting on your palm as you lounged in the cushy chair Crocodile had bought for you. Crocodile heard the sounds of pieces being moved.

“Check,” you said again. More pieces were moved.

“Checkmate. Are we done here?” Crocodile wondered how quickly you’d defeated your opponent. He hoped you’d done it embarrassingly fast. Crocodile opened the door to see Mihawk examining the board curiously while you were curled up in your chair like a little cat, chin indeed resting on your palm. Crocodile didn’t like seeing Mihawk near you, especially while the two of you were alone. 

“To what do we owe the pleasure, Mihawk?” Crocodile asked, voice low. He had taken out a handkerchief and was polishing his hook. 

“I wanted to meet the chess master who captured your attention,” Mihawk answered dryly. For all his detached attitude, Crocodile knew Mihawk liked to stir up trouble occasionally. You glanced between the two men, but didn’t seem to care about the strained conversation. “She defeated me in under three minutes, quite impressive.” Crocodile drew sharply on his cigar. He wanted Mihawk gone, but he didn’t want to draw even more attention to you. He walked to stand behind your chair, leaning heavily on the back. You looked up at him, unamused.

“She will be leaving now. Let me know whenever all of this,” you gestured between Crocodile and Mihawk, “is done.” You uncurled your legs and stood up. Crocodile put his hand on your shoulder, keeping you in place. You rolled your eyes but didn’t try to leave again. Crocodile’s hand on your shoulder gripped you lightly as Mihawk stood up.

“No need, I am on my way. Enjoy your evening,” Mihawk said easily, leaving the two of you alone. Crocodile regretted his course of action. He’d shown Mihawk exactly what he’d been looking for - played into the Swordsman’s hand with ease. Maybe Mihawk was a better chess player than Crocodile gave him credit for.

“What was that all about? And stop getting sand everywhere, it’s such a bitch to clean up,” you told Crocodile, ire seemingly gone. That was a facet of your personality that Crocodile appreciated, that your anger came and went easily. His did not.

“You tell me,” Crocodile replied, releasing your shoulder. It had felt so small and delicate in his hand, like he could crush it without a second thought.

You shrugged. “Mihawk was here when I came in. He asked to play a round of chess. I said no, that I don’t play for free -”

“Good girl,” Crocodile interrupted. You rolled your eyes again.

“So he offered me a lesson in swordsmanship if I won. Which I did, of course.” Crocodile narrowed his eyes. He didn’t want you spending any more time with Mihawk, lessons or not.

“I didn’t know you had an interest in learning to wield a sword," Crocodile said, trying not to gnash his teeth.

“He offered money first, but I have enough of yours for now," you said, a smug look on your face. "Seemed like a good idea now that we’re an Emperor’s crew. I’m not a great fighter, that’s never been my strongest skill,” you explained, resetting the chess board. 

“You could have asked me if you wanted to learn,” Crocodile suggested tersely, trying to hide his anger. You looked up in mild surprise. 

“You’re jealous? Over that?” you asked incredulously. How could you read him so well?

“I am not jealous. I am just saying that it would be more appropriate for me to teach you as we already spend time together daily.” Crocodile was feeling jealous, the unfamiliar sensation burning a hole in his gut.  You hummed, turning the board to Crocodile. He opened with a pawn.

“Does the Emperor regularly teach low ranking crew members to fight?” you asked, moving your knight.

“Only ones who are worth the effort,” Crocodile said, moving his queen forward.